


treading the riptide

by bucksreyes



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, And they've been in Austin for a while, Carlos POV, Drunk Carlos, Everything is the same except Carlos & TK don't meet on the job, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23075056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucksreyes/pseuds/bucksreyes
Summary: Carlos steps out of the elevator, a little unsteady on his feet, blinking fast to get his eyes to focus. He fishes for his keys in his pockets, his movements slow and clumsy partially from exhaustion and partially from the two tequila shots he had knocked back before leaving the bar. A decision he is very much regretting now, but it seemed like a great idea at the time, with Michelle banging on the bar in encouragement and shouting his name. His ears are still ringing with the sounds as he rounds the corner of the hallway that leads to his apartment.TK gets kicked out by his ex-boyfriend and has nowhere to go for the night. He’s sitting in the hallway outside of the apartment with all of his stuff when someone stumbles, clearly drunk, into the hallway and trips right over one of the boxes, landing in a heap on top of his clothes. That someone is Carlos Reyes.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand
Comments: 35
Kudos: 428





	treading the riptide

**Author's Note:**

> title from: bad intentions - niykee heaton
> 
> inspired by a prompt from [this](https://hasan-minhaj.tumblr.com/post/171811125398/just-some-lil-au-ideas-to-keep-in-mind) post, modified it to fit tarlos. unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine.

Carlos steps out of the elevator, a little unsteady on his feet, blinking fast to get his eyes to focus. He fishes for his keys in his pockets, his movements slow and clumsy partially from exhaustion and partially from the two tequila shots he had knocked back before leaving the bar. A decision he is very much regretting now, but it seemed like a great idea at the time, with Michelle banging on the bar in encouragement and shouting his name. His ears are still ringing with the sounds as he rounds the corner of the hallway that leads to his apartment. 

He stumbles once, cursing under his breath as the world lurches and spins in a way that makes his stomach turn. He steadies himself against the wall with one hand and his fingers finally close around the cold metal of his keys in his pocket. Letting out a relieved sigh at finding his keys, he closes his eyes for a second, his body relaxing at the thought of being in bed soon.

Feeling a rush of urgency now that he’s thought about his bed, he opens his eyes and continues toward his apartment, walking faster than he should considering the state he’s in. It’s a bad idea. His eyes are unfocussed, struggling to make sense of what he’s seeing. He can see that the hallway in front of him isn’t empty; there are things strewn across one side of it, piled up haphazardly, but in the dark he can’t tell what they are and his alcohol-addled brain has no explanation for it. When he’d left his apartment early that morning, the hallway had been completely empty. He squints at the shapes, his face morphing into a confused frown. The world lurches again and he feels his foot connect with something hard. He reaches out to steady himself but his fingers only touch empty air and then he’s flat on his stomach. 

He lets out a muffled groan and expects to feel rough carpet beneath him, not something soft and lumpy. He lifts his head slightly, but his body protests the movement and he lets his head fall back onto the soft cloth, too far gone to care that he is lying on the ground outside of his apartment. He uses his hands to try to get his bearings, feeling out the surface beneath him. He clutches a piece of the cloth in his hand and brings it up to his face to squint at it in the dim light. It’s a t-shirt. He rolls to the side as slowly as possible and looks down to see that he landed on a pile of clothes. A pile of clothes lying in the hallway? His drunk brain struggles to process that fact. Why are there clothes in the hallway on the ground? Whose clothes are they?

He has a moment of panic when he thinks about whose clothes they may be. Are they his clothes? He squints at the t-shirt again, trying to see if it looks familiar. Why are his clothes in the hallway? Is he being robbed?

He must have spoken aloud without realizing, because he hears someone laugh nearby. He holds back another groan at the thought of an audience to his humiliation. He is never going to listen to Michelle again. Being discovered lying on a pile of clothes in the hallway which he fell onto because he is so drunk, while possibly being robbed, is his worst nightmare that he didn’t even know he had. 

He follows the sound of the laugh to its source, which is not a masked vigilante, or even someone who looks vaguely threatening, but a  _ really _ good-looking brown-haired guy sitting on the floor a few feet away from him. He has an amused look on his face, but his eyes are wary. He’s propped up against the wall, his elbows resting on his knees, his hair a mess as if he’s been running his fingers through it and all Carlos can think is,  _ oh, he’s cute _ . Some part of his brain registers that he is still lying on the floor and checking out the stranger isn’t the best course of action to rectify that.

“Hi.” he says, because he isn’t quite ready to get up yet and he’s afraid to try, because he is pretty sure if he moves now he will throw up all over this cute stranger and the pile of clothes which may or may not be his. He’s still clutching the t shirt in his hand. “Is this yours?”

The stranger nods, his smile tightening around the edges.

“So, you’re not robbing me?” Carlos squints at him, trying to look as intimidating as he possibly can while lying on his stomach on a pile of another man’s clothes.

“No…” His voice is low, but Carlos is close enough to hear him. “I don’t even know you.”

“I’m Carlos.” He says.

He blinks at Carlos and he presses his lips together as if he’s trying not to laugh. “Hi Carlos.”

“Are you going to tell me your name or should I just keep calling you Cute Stranger in my head?” Flirting with the random stranger sitting in the hallway of his apartment building is not the best decision Carlos has ever made, but it’s also not the worst. He can’t help the fact that this wet dream of a man just showed up outside of his door like a gift just waiting to be unwrapped. 

The stranger lets out a single laugh and shakes his head. “I’m TK.” He moves to stand up and Carlos’ eyes follow the movement, even as he deflates in disappointment at the thought of the stranger leaving. He barely got a chance to flex his flirting skills and he doubts he will ever see the stranger again. At least he got his name, or what seems to be his initials. What kind of name is TK?

He keeps his eyes on “TK” as he steps around a cardboard box and stops in front of Carlos, holding a hand out toward him. Carlos blinks at the outstretched hand for a moment, uncomprehending, before he realizes what TK is doing.

“You planning to spend the night on my clothes?” TK asks.

Carlos reaches up and grabs his hand. It’s warm and his skin is soft and he focuses on that feeling instead of the way his head spins as he stands up. He tries to avoid stepping on the clothes as he does, but the hallway isn’t very wide and he stumbles into TK, grabbing his shoulder with his free hand to stabilize himself. At the same time, TK’s other hand comes up to wrap around Carlos’ waist.

“Woah. You okay?” TK asks, and to Carlos’ delight, his voice is a little huskier than it was a few moments ago.

His face is only a few inches away and even in the dim light of the hallway Carlos can appreciate how good he looks this close up. His eyes rove over his face before landing on his lips and something inside Carlos aches to find out what they would feel like against his own. His brain catches up with the concerned look on TK’s face and he realizes he asked him a question.

Carlos nods and then immediately regrets it, aborting the movement halfway through. “Yes. Sorry. Had a little too much to drink. I don’t usually… I’m sorry.” It’s an effort to let go of TK’s shoulder–which is surprisingly sturdy, what is he, a personal trainer?––and step away, but he makes himself do it. Even as drunk as he is, Carlos doesn’t want to come off as a creep. Sure, this guy is easily the hottest person Carlos has ever seen and he’s already catalogued every expression he has made since he laid eyes on him, but he’s also a stranger and he’s being extremely nice to Carlos who is nothing more than a random drunk guy who fell on his clothes, and now partially onto him.

TK shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s okay.”

Carlos takes in a deep breath, giving his brain a chance to catch up with the situation. He looks down at the pile of clothes and then a little further down the hall at the small stack of boxes and other personal belongings. The fact that he found TK sitting in the hallway alone in the middle of the night next to what is clearly all of his possessions only leads him to one conclusion: he was kicked out. He sobers a bit and looks back at TK, shifting into Officer Reyes, rather than Carlos the guy who really wants to get laid because it’s been way too long and how often do you run into attractive strangers who look like they walked straight out of your fantasies. “You aren’t planning on spending the night out here, are you?”

TK crosses his arms over his chest and Carlos does  _ not _ track the movement with his eyes or note the way it makes his t-shirt stretch across his shoulders, he does  _ not.  _ “No.”

Carlos has only known TK for two whole minutes and yet he can tell that TK just lied to him. Maybe it’s his police instinct or maybe TK is just that bad of a liar. His eyes shift away from Carlos, focusing on a spot a little to his left, his chin raised defiantly, as if he is daring Carlos to call him out on his lie.

Carlos, never one to resist a challenge, which is how he ended up so drunk in the first place, leans against the wall next to TK, his eyes sliding to the door nearest them before focussing back on TK. “So, apartment 802, last I remember, this guy named Alex lives there. Kind of cute, if you’re into boring Wall Street wanna-be types. I didn’t know he had a roommate.”

TK’s mouth twists into something in between a frown and a grimace. “Not his roommate.”

Carlos raises his eyebrows. “Oh. So it’s like that.”

TK keeps his eyes on the ground. “It  _ was _ . Or I thought it was…” He looks at Carlos. “It’s complicated.” Another shrug.

“I can see that.” Carlos says, eyeing TK’s things which are still strewn out in the hallway. “Want me to beat him up?”

TK laughs, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“Are you sure? Kicking you out in the middle of the night is a shitty thing to do.”

TK opens his eyes, his face serious again. “He didn’t kick me out. He’s not even home. I just… we broke up and, I came back here and I couldn’t stand the thought of being there another minute so I packed up all my stuff and I brought it out here and then I realized it’s 2 am and I have nowhere to go.”

“I’m sorry, about the break-up,” Carlos begins, but TK waves him off.

“It’s okay, we weren’t really that serious. Honestly, it did feel like we were roommates sometimes, especially the last few weeks. I wasn’t even surprised when he said he moved on and wanted to end things between us. It felt like things had been over for a long time and we’d just been going through the motions, you know?”

Carlos nods as if he understands, but he doesn’t really. None of his relationships have lasted long enough to even reach that stage. The rush of adrenaline he had been feeling after falling down and running into TK is starting to fade away and he leans more of his weight against the wall. He remembers how much he had been looking forward to being in bed only a few minutes ago and a thought occurs to him. “If you need a place to stay for the night…”

TK’s eyes widen slightly. “No, I… I can call my dad. I’m fine.”

Carlos tilts his head, giving him a flat look. “It’s 3 in the morning. Which means you’ve been sitting out here for an hour. If you were going to call your dad, you would have by now.”

TK brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “He has work, I didn’t want to wake him up. I figured I’d just wait a few hours until he’s up.”

Carlos considers his words for a moment, which is an effort with the way his head is still spinning. “I know we don’t know each other, but I can’t in good conscience, leave you out here, even if it’s just for a few hours.” His eyes fall back onto TK’s things. “Also, I’m pretty sure this is a fire hazard.” 

TK huffs out a laugh and Carlos frowns at him. He wasn’t trying to be funny, but TK seemed to think he was.

He gives Carlos a curious look, a small smile still on his face. “Why do you care so much? Like you said, we don’t know each other.”

Now it’s Carlos’ turn to shrug. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t really know. Part of it is that he’s always been caring, always concerned about other people’s safety and wellbeing, which is why he joined the force in the first place, but part of it is also that TK is the most intriguing person he’s met in a long time. He’s easy to talk to, friendly, and he hasn’t expressed any judgement at the fact that Carlos is almost too drunk to stand. The part of him that wants to get to know TK better, in more ways than one, is motivated to invite him into his apartment, even if all he does is sleep on his couch. If he leaves TK out here now, who knows if he’ll ever see him again. He doesn’t want to lose his chance for  _ something _ . He can’t help but think that they were meant to meet, that there was a reason he went out with MIchelle tonight and drank too much and came home way too late, and that reason was so that he would fall onto a pile of TK’s clothes and meet him.

He doesn’t say any of that, having enough sense to know it’s just the alcohol talking. Instead he says, “It’s my job to care.” When TK raises his eyebrows, he elaborates. “I’m a cop.”

TK visibly relaxes at his words, his expression smoothing out and his shoulders dropping from their tensed position.

“No one’s had that reaction before,” Carlos laughs.

TK laughs along with him. “No, it’s just… all the questions and stuff, makes you seem a lot less creepy.”

Carlos raises his eyebrows, feigning offense. “Wow,” he says, dragging the word out. “That’s hurtful, TK.” Carlos shakes his head, an exaggerated frown on his face, gesturing with his hands while he speaks. “You try looking out for a guy and he calls you a creep.”

“I did not call you a  _ creep _ . But we don’t know each other, and you did invite me to your place…”

“To sleep on my couch! Get your mind out of the gutter, TK.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” TK raises his hands in defeat. “But it does make me feel better, knowing you’re a cop.”

Carlos straightens up. “So, does that mean you’re taking me up on my offer?”

When TK still looks hesitant, Carlos adds, “if it helps, I’m about 5 seconds away from passing out and I sleep like the dead, so you could rob me while I was asleep and I would have no idea.”

TK laughs again, and Carlos thinks he could get used to the sound of his laugh. “You know you’re a little fixated on the whole getting robbed thing.”

Carlos shrugs. “I have good taste.” He lets his eyes trail down TK’s form and then back up.

A slow smile spreads over TK’s face and he nods. “Yeah, okay. It’s not like I’ve never gone home with a stranger before.”

“You go home with a lot of strangers, TK?” Carlos asks.

TK blushes and its visible even in the dim light. “Not a lot. And never one that looked like you.” He swallows, keeping his eyes on Carlos’ face in a way that feels deliberate, like he’s trying not to look anywhere else. “You’re really hot.”

Carlos narrows his eyes at him. “Oh, now you want to flirt? When I’ve made it clear there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it tonight? I see how it is.”

TK smiles at him. “I’m just stating facts.”

Carlos blinks at him for a moment. “Okay. Thank you.”

“So, are we just going to stand here all night?”

Carlos takes in a deep breath. “Give me a minute. I need to mentally prepare before I do any more walking.”

TK shakes his head at him, but he is still smiling. “C’mon.” He holds his hand out for Carlos again. “Which one’s yours?”

“805.” Carlos takes his hand and lets himself be lead to his door, following TK’s lead as he navigates around his things, trying to keep his eyes focused on the back of TK’s head and not on the way the hallway seems to be tilting slowly to one side.

“Key?” TK holds his free hand out and Carlos just stares at it. He remembers pulling his key out of his pocket, but it’s not in either of his hands.

“I think I dropped it, when I fell.” Carlos gives him an apologetic smile.

TK stares at him for a moment before he laughs. “Okay. Wait here, let me go find it.” 

He lets go of Carlos’ hand and crouches down next to the pile of his clothes, which Carlos now realizes were neatly stacked on top of a cardboard box, but Carlos must have knocked them over when he tripped on it. TK walks back over to him, key in hand, and unlocks the door. 

Carlos slowly walks into his apartment, with TK close on his heels. He manages to get to his room and sit down on his bed without falling over, which he considers a win. He feels more than sees TK crouch down next to him.

“I’m going to get you some water. And maybe a bucket, or something.” TK looks around, as if he’s cataloguing Carlos’ bedroom.

“Bottom left cupboard, in the kitchen,” Carlos says.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” 

Carlos has no intention of moving so that’s easy. He puts his hands against the top of his head and closes his eyes, trying to will away the sensation of his head being ten times heavier than it is. 

He can hear TK rummaging around in his kitchen and then the sound of the tap running and then, “Carlos? Here, drink this.”

Carlos opens his eyes to find TK standing in front of him, holding out a glass of water. He eyes the glass and takes it from TK, his movements sluggish. “As long as it’s not tequila…”

TK snorts and takes the glass from Carlos once it's empty. “You need anything else?”

Carlos shakes his head and instantly regrets it. He lowers himself back against his pillows slowly, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m good. Thank you. There’s extra pillows and blankets in the closet. Help yourself. And make sure you bring your things in, don’t want you to get robbed.” His eyes feel heavy and his voice begins to trail off. “Would be a lot of paperwork for me…”

The last thing he sees before he falls asleep is TK smiling and shaking his head at him.

* * *

Carlos wakes up with a pounding headache, as to be expected. He rolls onto his back and slowly opens his eyes. His mouth is dry and his limbs feel heavy and his stomach is not happy with him at all, but, Carlos reasons, this isn’t the worst he has ever felt. He slowly brings himself into a sitting position, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He’s been shot before, more than once, and he didn’t let that keep him down, so he wasn’t about to let a little bit of tequila leave him bedridden.

He glances over at his nightstand and feels a rush of relief at the sight of a full glass of water resting on it. He thanks his past self for the foresight, but also curses him for drinking so much in the first place. He should have capped it at two beers like he usually did, but he had let himself get caught up in the rush of a good week at work and good weeks were rare. By the end of the night, he lost count of how many drinks he had, and he barely remembered the trip home. He’s pretty sure he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but the evidence showed that he made a stop at the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, so he must have been somewhat sober by the time he got home.

He drinks the water and stands up, stretching as he does. He nearly trips over last night’s clothes, which somehow ended up on the floor. He probably slipped out of them in the middle of the night when he was half asleep. Gathering them up, he tosses them into the hamper, mentally debating whether he should shower now or wait until after breakfast. He eyes his clothing hamper, noting that it’s getting pretty full, and adds laundry to the list of things he needs to do today. Even though all he really wants to do is crawl back into bed and not move for at least a week. He wishes he was the kind of person who could have breakfast in bed, but the thought of all those crumbs is off-putting, even if he can just wash his sheets later. 

He’s still weighing the pros and cons of having breakfast first when he hears a loud clatter in the kitchen. The sound is followed by the hiss of cold water against a hot pan and someone cursing repeatedly. He doesn’t remember bringing anyone home last night, but he doesn’t remember much at all, so that’s not saying much. He picks up a pair of sweatpants and a faded Austin PD t-shirt and pulls them on, just in case it’s Michelle, then wanders into the kitchen.

It’s not Michelle in his kitchen, but a  _ very _ cute and flustered guy, standing with his back to Carlos, with his hands on his hips as he stares at something in the sink. He turns around and Carlos’ eyes jump from his very sculpted back to his face and some memories from last night come flooding back. The guy is TK, who he found in the hallway, after he tripped over his stuff and made a complete fool of himself. TK, his newly single, not-neighbour, who is in Carlos’ kitchen trying–and clearly failing–to make food. He freezes when he sees Carlos in the doorway. 

“Hi. Good morning. I was just,” TK gestures at the mess in the sink, “trying to make you breakfast but… it didn’t work out.” There’s a distinct smell of smoke in the air and the window is wide open, so ‘it didn’t work out’ is likely an understatement.

Carlos glances into the sink where he can see the burnt remains of… something in one of his pans. “Good morning.” He walks fully into the kitchen and brushes past TK to pull some mugs out of a cupboard. He knows coffee after a night of drinking isn’t the best idea, but he can go back to making better decisions tomorrow. Once the coffee is brewing, he turns back to TK, leaning back against the counter on his elbows. “So, what exactly were you trying to make?”

“...Pancakes?” TK says, hanging his head. “Sorry about the mess.”

Carlos shrugs and glances around the kitchen. It  _ is _ a mess, and Carlos will definitely be doing a thorough cleaning later, but for now he is focused solely on breakfast. The ingredients for the pancakes are still out, strewn out on his countertop, so he finds another pan in his cupboard and sets it on the stove. “C’mon. I’m going to teach you how to make pancakes without burning my kitchen down.”

TK’s eyes widen and he starts to protest but Carlos hands him a spatula and tells him to follow along. He mixes up the batter and a few minutes later they’re sitting at his kitchen table with coffee and pancakes.

Carlos picks up his coffee mug and inhales it deeply, letting the smell wash over him and wake him up a little more. He lets his eyes close for a minute, really savouring the coffee, before he opens them up and focuses on TK. “So… last night,” Carlos says, taking a sip of his coffee, “that was  _ fun _ .”

TK splutters, nearly spilling the coffee he had just brought up to his lips. “Uh… what part?”

Carlos raises his eyebrows, smiling into his coffee. “You know, the part when you said I'm really hot.”

TK puts down his coffee and sits back, a pink flush spreading up his neck. “You remember that?”

Carlos leans forward on his elbows. “I remember everything. Well, up until I invited you to my apartment… after that it’s a little fuzzy.” He lets his eyes sweep down TK’s chest and then back up again. “We didn’t… did we?”

TK’s blush deepens and he shakes his head. “No, no. I slept on the couch.” He gestures to the couch with his fork before using it to cut into his stack of pancakes, which Carlos notes are practically drowning in syrup.

Carlos follows his gaze to the couch, where he can see a neatly folded comforter and a pillow sitting on the armrest. His eyes cut a little to the left where he sees TK’s belongings stacked against the far wall. Then, he looks back at TK.

He takes another indulgent sip of coffee, mirroring TK’s posture, leaning back against his chair. “Good.”

TK pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. Carlos watches as it drips syrup onto his plate. “Good?” His eyebrows are drawn together and he’s frowning.

Carlos presses his lips together to keep himself from laughing at TK’s expression. He takes a bite of his pancakes and chews it slowly, letting TK stew a little bit. He knows it’s not really fair to tease a practical stranger like this, but something tells him TK doesn’t mind. He already feels so comfortable around him, maybe because of their unconventional first meeting, the way TK had slowly opened to him in the quiet hours of the night, when it felt like the world was just the two of them. He feels his mouth curve up into a smirk. “Yeah, good.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Because that’s something I’d want to remember,” he adds, keeping his eyes trained on TK’s face.

Carlos’ smile widens when TK’s blush returns and he clears his throat, pointedly looking down at his pancakes. “Oh.”

As much fun as Carlos is having, he doesn’t want to scare TK off with his flirting, so he backs off a bit. “Did you call your dad?”

That earns him a blank stare from TK before he processes his words. He seems a bit thrown off by the quick subject change. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I did. He said he’d pick me up on the way to work. So, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Carlos shrugs. “There’s no rush. I don’t really have plans today.” Aside from laundry and cleaning and lying facedown on his couch for a few hours.

“Yeah, I figured, considering how late you got home last night.” Now TK is the one smirking and Carlos is squirming a little under the scrutiny.

He’d been hoping to delay bringing up his embarrassing behaviour until the last minute. He would try to avoid it completely if he didn’t have to apologise to TK. “I’m so sorry about that, by the way. I  _ never _ drink that much, it was just a one time thing. I probably would have handled it better if it was a regular thing.”

TK nods slowly. “All good. I get it.” 

Something about his tone makes Carlos feel that he really does get it and they’re not just empty words. Not for the first time since he’s met TK, he feels a desire to know more about him. He wants to know everything about him, or at least everything he’s willing to share.

“Thank you. For dealing with my drunk ass. I can’t believe I tripped on your stuff and then lost my key.” He buries his face in his hands as he relives the events of last night.

TK laughs. “You taught me how to make pancakes without burning them, so we’re even.”

Carlos peeks at him from between his fingers. “That was for my sake more than yours.” He drops his hands so he can smile at TK. “Couldn’t have you burning my kitchen down.”

TK rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “C’mon, I wouldn’t have  _ burned _ it down. Pancakes may not be my thing, but I can handle a small kitchen fire.”

Carlos tilts his head. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience. Set a lot of kitchens on fire, TK?”

“No.” TK’s tone is indignant and he laughs again. “I’m a firefighter.”

A few things click into place for Carlos. The way TK instantly trusted him when he said he was a cop, his reaction to Carlos claiming his things were a fire hazard, his  _ physique _ . “So, that’s why you laughed when I told you your things being in the hallway was a fire hazard.”

“Yeah. You were right, though.” There’s a pause. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

Carlos waves him off and stands up to clear away their dishes. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t no–” TK is cut off by his phone ringing. He peeks at the screen and gives Carlos an apologetic smile. “Sorry, that’s my dad.”

Carlos nods and walks into the kitchen with the dishes, getting started on washing them. He’s done rinsing them all by the time TK gets off the phone and comes up to him. Carlos turns off the tap and dries his hands on a dish towel before turning to face TK and leaning his left hip against the counter.

“My dad’s outside.” His tone’s subdued, devoid of the hint of amusement it had before. “I would stay and help with the clean-up but we have to get to work and he’s the fire captain so he can’t be late and–”

“TK.” Carlos puts his right hand on TK’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “It’s okay. I can take care of the clean-up, like I said I don’t have any plans.” He takes his hand off his shoulder and walks around TK to where his stuff is piled up. “Let me help you get this stuff downstairs.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do–” TK starts, but Carlos gives him a look that makes him stop mid-sentence. He gives Carlos a sheepish smile. “Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Carlos smiles back at him as he lifts three of the boxes, his smile widening when he sees TK give his arms an appreciative look. He just so happened to have put on an old t-shirt which is a little tight around the shoulders and he thanks the universe for working in his favour.

TK picks up a box and an armful of clothes and leads the way out of Carlos’ apartment. He’s quiet in the elevator, contemplative, and Carlos doesn’t want to press him to talk. Clearly he’s got a lot going on and Carlos can tell when someone needs some space.

They’re met in the lobby by a white man in a blue firefighter uniform emblazoned with CAPT. STRAND. Even without the uniform, there’s no doubt he’s TK’s father. They’re about the same height, dark-haired, lean but muscular, and there’s something about the set of his jaw and a perceptive sheen to his eyes that relates him to TK.

TK’s dad gives him a small smile and a look that says he has a lot to say to him but he’s going to wait until they’re alone to do it. TK shifts his weight from one foot to another next to him and Carlos takes advantage of the silence to step forward and introduce himself.

“Hello sir, I’m Officer Reyes.” He manages to shift the boxes to balance precariously in his left hand so he can reach out and shake the captain’s hand.

“Captain Strand.” His grip is firm. “Thanks for taking care of my son.”

Carlos readjusts his hold on the boxes, looking over at TK who looks like he just got sent to the principal’s office. “It was nothing, sir. I think he took care of me more than I did for him.”

Captain Strand gives him a curious glance, but Carlos doesn’t elaborate. “Are you parked out front?”

The captain nods and gestures for Carlos to walk ahead of him. He does so, after a quick glance at TK. He tries not to eavesdrop as TK and his dad fall into step behind him, but they’re not very far and the street outside is quiet.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You know we’re gonna have to talk about this, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to say I told you so, but…”

A pause. TK sounds miserable and it tugs at Carlos’ heartstrings. “You were right. I should’ve listened to you.”

Captain Strand’s voice softens. “Hey. There’s nothing wrong with making mistakes, as long as you learn from them. I’m always going to be here for you, kid.”

They reach what he assumes is Captain Strand’s car, considering it’s the only one on the street and begin loading it up with TK’s things. It takes one more trip to get everything downstairs and into the car and Carlos makes small talk with TK’s dad. He doesn’t want to make it obvious he overheard their conversation, but he can’t help that he did and now he has this urge to protect TK from… well, from himself. Carlos doesn’t know the whole story, but from what TK told him last night and what he had gleaned from what TK hadn’t said, the guy had some self-destructive tendencies. He figures distracting his dad with meaningless talk will give TK a chance to prepare for the difficult conversation his dad had alluded to.

They’re standing outside Captain Strand’s car now, all of TK’s stuff loaded into the trunk. Carlos isn’t sure of what to say, the whole situation is awkward, but TK beats him to it.

“Thanks for everything, Carlos,” he raises a hand when Carlos opens his mouth, “don’t say it’s nothing, okay? Just, take the thank you,  _ please _ .”

He sounds a little exasperated, but his voice has more life in it than it had a few minutes ago when he was speaking to his dad so Carlos smiles at him. “Okay. You’re welcome.”

Captain Strand holds out his hand for Carlos to shake again. “Nice meeting you, Officer Reyes.”

“Likewise, sir.” Carlos shakes his hand and then the Captain climbs into the car, leaving Carlos and TK on the sidewalk.

Carlos puts his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes on TK. He’s lost in thought, chewing on the inside of his mouth absently and his brow is furrowed and Carlos resists the urge to step forward and smooth it out with his thumb.

TK blinks and he seems to settle on something. He focuses his gaze on Carlos. “Do you think… maybe… we could see each other again? Things are kind of a mess right now… I’m a mess right now, but there’s just,” TK takes in a breath and releases it just as quickly, “something.”

Carlos nods, his smile softening a bit at TK’s words. “Yeah. I feel it, too.” There’s a pause and Carlos clears his throat. “Why don’t I give you my number and you can give me a call whenever you’re ready? Then there’s no pressure.”

A slow, hopeful smile spreads over TK’s face and it makes Carlos’ heart stutter. “Yeah, okay.” He hands his phone over to Carlos who types in his number and hands it back.

TK looks down at the screen when he hands it over and lets out a surprised laugh. Carlos filled in his contact as “Carlos (The Really Hot Cop)” and he’s not ashamed in the slightest.

“They were your words, not mine,” is all Carlos says.

“I know,” TK’s tone is light and he gives a brief glance at Carlos’ chest. “And I stand by it.”

“Thanks. I think you’re really hot, too. If that wasn’t obvious.” Carlos replies.

TK clears his throat, the blush which is now so familiar to Carlos blooms at his neck and moves up to his face. “Thank you. I’ll see you around, Carlos.” And with that he turns and walks around to the other side of the car and climbs in.

Carlos raises a hand to wave goodbye and he turns to leave as they drive off. His phone vibrates and he pulls it out of his pocket.

**_FROM UNKNOWN:_ ** _ thought you should have number too in case someone tries to burn your kitchen down again _

Carlos laughs and saves the number in his phone before sending a reply.

**_TO TK (THE FIRE HAZARD):_ ** _ i’ll definitely give you a call if that happens… after i call 911 _

He smiles to himself and tucks the phone into his pocket as he makes him way back to his apartment, feeling good about the future for the first time in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> come talk to me on my tumblr [@steviebarnes](http://steviebarnes.tumblr.com/) or twitter [@616stevierogers](https://twitter.com/616stevierogers)


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